Wrists of Schist
The secrets I keep,
circle my mind.
Every night,
Never confined.
Like a whispered song,
In a loop that won’t end.
Going and going
‘til it all seems to blend.
the people I’ve hurt.
the torture, the damage.
all of it I wish,
I wish it would vanish
But the pain is too much.
It shows on my wrists.
Seeping out with the blood,
Looking like a schist
Then hiding another secret,
Yet again, another lie.
More cuts, more excuses,
But never do I cry
And each night I still lie there
With the secrets, the thoughts
In hopes of forgetting
The pain that I’ve got
But the pain is still there.
The guilt in my heart
Being etched in it’s stone
Will it tear me apart?